


The Roles We Play

by screamingsongbird16



Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7935487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingsongbird16/pseuds/screamingsongbird16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amari considers his fellow spies, the roles they play, and the role that he himself wants to play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Roles We Play

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tivanny](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Tivanny).



            Whenever a group of random people are thrown together and manage to gel, it’s because individuals in the group take on certain roles.  Leaders emerged.  As did protectors, or caregivers.  Sometimes those roles were one in the same, sometimes not.  Strategists, enablers, mood makers, the list of niches went on and on.

            It was kind of funny, Amari thought one day, in the early days of D-Agency’s existence, that it still held true, that even when every member of a group was a role that was being played and not who they actually were, they still took on roles within their group.  He had fun trying to guess whose roles would have been the same back in their former lives, before they took on the roles they were playing now, and who fell into these new group roles only because of the roles they were playing.

           

 

* * *

 

The Leaders

 

            Even before training officially ended, the group’s leaders were clear.  Amari had initially thought he would end up being a leader.  He had experience being a leader in the past and was one of the oldest trainees, and age was always a determining factor when it came to who people followed.  In Japan, where simply having a year of seniority over someone else essentially put you in a place permanently above them, that was especially true.  It didn’t make it right, and Amari was very aware of that.  Sometimes, just because someone was a single month older than you, the school-year calendar gave them senpai status.  That one month didn’t make them worthy of respect or necessarily more qualified to lead, anymore than a year or two did, but it was a culture thing.  One that Lt. Colonel Yuuki didn’t hold with at all.  Honorifics were nixed when dealing with every other trainee.  And every trainee’s official backstory was that they twenty-five years old. 

            Doing that had essentially leveled the playing field for every trainee, and made them all equals.  Well, mostly.  It was a lot easier to accept that the ones who were obviously older like Kaminaga, Amari, and Fukumoto were twenty-five than it was to accept the tiny terrors known as Jitsui and Hatano were twenty-five.  Belief could only be suspended so far, no matter how good they were at lying and acting, when they looked like they still belonged in high school.

            Miyoshi, however, was clearly still on the young side.  Had he been using his real age, he would have likely had a harder time gaining authority, despite how clearly brilliant he was.  Or perhaps he wouldn’t have even wanted that authority then.  Patience was something every trainee had in abundance when necessary.  But even though Miyoshi could be patient didn’t mean that he wasn’t vindictive.  He held a nasty grudge, especially against slights and insults aimed at him.  Amari found himself very grateful that Yuuki’s directives had encouraged them all to treat everyone else as though they were in the same year, because he had the feeling that simply dismissing Miyoshi’s opinion even just once, on account of having seniority, would have earned him lifelong scorn from the pretty-faced narcissist. 

            Miyoshi seemed to see things that the others couldn’t.  No, that was a poor way of wording it, Amari realized after thinking on it.  Miyoshi saw the same things that everyone else was capable of seeing.  But he interpreted more from them or interpreted them differently.  He thought further about every detail.  Like with the terror twins.  Amari wouldn’t admit it now, but at first he’d believed Hatano and Jitsui would be the first ones to get cut.  He looked at their baby faces, saw they were the only ones there who looked like they hadn’t made it through college, and decided that them not attending a university put them at too much of a disadvantage.  Whereas Miyoshi looked at them and saw two prodigies who’d been personally scouted.  The age gap between them and the next youngest candidates indicated to him that they’d been hand chosen by Yuuki.  Otherwise there would be people who looked and acted like they were still in college instead of a clear divide, like there was.  And just like he could see potential, Miyoshi could also pinpoint weakness.  There were many people who wanted to befriend him, because of his brilliance, who he made clear he had no time for.  Amari didn’t think that he traded more than a handful of words with anyone who didn’t make it to the halfway point.  And once they reached that, he limited himself to talking only to the other seven who eventually ended up making the final cut.  Or at least only talking to them when he had a choice.  To the lingering few pieces of fodder waiting to be cut, Miyoshi didn’t have many nice words for, and his interactions with them were terse. 

            The one who really brought the final eight spies together as a group was actually Miyoshi.  At the beginning, they’d all been spread out amongst different groups, or paired off with other trainees who they’d sort of teamed up with.  Miyoshi started collecting them as their first acquaintances were cut, and before long they were all eating together at the same table.  With two remaining leaches, as Miyoshi so tactfully referred to the trainees he correctly predicted would be cut. 

            None of the final eight ever questioned Miyoshi’s leadership.  They didn’t elect him or anything, but there were no disputes about it.  He was just their leader, and it seemed so simple that no one ever bothered talking about it. 

            But Amari got the feeling that in any other group, Miyoshi wouldn’t be leading.  He could be wrong, but he didn’t think he was.  He just had the feeling that in his life before D-Agency, Miyoshi hadn’t bothered trying to lead, on account of not caring enough to.  Or on account of not thinking highly enough of the people he could have been leading.  Amari felt like Miyoshi would have been more of the power behind the leader in any other group.  Perhaps even going so far as to hand pick his own puppet to be the figurehead leader.  Or, if he felt like being lazy, simply blackmailing the leader into obeying his directions.  But D-Agency was different.  Amari wasn’t positive, but he thought that Miyshi considered his fellow graduates to be his peers. 

 

 

            Kaminaga, on the other hand, seemed like the kind of natural leader who would have ended up at the front of any group of random people he found himself in.  Maybe not as the main leader, but still someone who people would gladly follow.  His easygoing, friendly personality made him hard not to like.  And he was old enough that none of the other trainees, even the more close-minded ones, had balked about listening to him.  Or rather, especially the more close-minded ones.  The ones who considered age and seniority to be a determining factor for who led.  Kaminaga probably would have been their top candidate. 

            But with the group consisting of the final eight, Kaminaga clearly knew better than to try to pull age rank.  He didn’t seem like the sort of guy who’d do that anyway, but he knew that it was a doubly bad idea with the group of spies.  Not that he would have needed to.  Kaminaga had his own sort of brilliance.  Maybe not as flashy as Miyoshi’s, but he was still clearly a step ahead of most of them, at any given time.  Amari considered himself to be an extremely smart and capable man, but he would readily acknowledge that both Miyoshi and Kaminaga were head and shoulders above him. 

            It was early days in the founding of D-Agency still.  They’d only just begun.  But Amari found himself wondering if one day, when Lt. Colonel Yuuki stepped down, would Kaminaga or Miyoshi step up to take his place?  Would the military even allow Yuuki to promote from within?  And if so, which of them would he choose?  Miyoshi’s brilliance was unsurpassed, but Amari felt like Kaminaga could be better counted on to consider the human factor and keep his underlings alive.  Sometimes Amari got the feeling that Miyoshi considered other people more like pawns than he really should.  And even though Amari didn’t think Miyoshi would ever intentionally send a fellow spy to their death, he could be prone to expecting too much from them.  Kaminaga would certainly be the more cautious of the two.  His plans included larger margins for error.  He was the safer choice.  But Miyoshi was the more effective choice.  Amari found himself glad that it wasn’t his decision to make. 

 

 

* * *

 

The Den Mother

 

            The role of a caregiver could be played in a variety of ways.  In a standard combat unit, said role was usually occupied by a medic.  Sometimes just an unofficial medic, who’d taken extra steps to learn more first aid, so that when their comrades inevitably got hurt they could do something about it.  Other times, like in more business-like situations, that role was just occupied by someone who liked to speak up and encourage others.

            In D-Agency, all graduates were required to undergo medical training.  Every one of them was capable of performing a wide variety of medical tasks, from stitching cuts, to removing bullets, to setting bones.  They could diagnose illnesses and poison symptoms, and knew how to treat most of the treatable ones.  It was rather difficult to go above and beyond their D-Agency medical training, without going as far as getting a degree.  And Amari was fairly certain that none of them were secretly doctors.

            Likewise, there was no one who was outspoken about encouraging the others whenever they struggled with a task.  Someone usually stepped up quietly, on their own, to help whoever was struggling, after hours, when they could work one on one with them, until their weakness in that task or subject was gone. 

            But despite the burden of helping each other being spread out amongst the whole group, there was one person who definitely fit the role of caregiver.  Or the group’s mother, as they sometimes jokingly called him.  Fukumoto kept an extra eye on everyone.  If you were having a bad day, he was usually the first to know, and you were likely to find your favorite foods on the dinner table that night.  If you were a little under the weather, he caught on the fastest, and you found yourself being besieged with cups of hot tea.  If you had a problem you wanted to talk about, and that other spy you were closest with wasn’t available, or a good one to discuss it with, Fukumoto was your go to guy.  You could count on anything you said to him being held in confidence, and on not being mocked or judged for any perceived weakness.  Fukumoto was definitely a major part of why D-Agency started to feel like a family.

            Amari couldn’t imagine that Fukumoto wasn’t like this in his former life too, before becoming a spy.  His caring streak seemed ingrained into his personality.  If he was ever to find out that it was all an act, he’d probably start questioning everything he’d ever thought about every person he’d ever met.  Ever. 

 

 

* * *

 

The Initiator

 

            Odagiri’s role was sort of hard to pin down.  He helped remind Amari that not everyone in a group always had established, and traditional roles.  But if he had to classify Odagiri’s, he’d call him an initiator.  Because he was the sort of man who didn’t quail away from presenting ideas or opinions that he thought were valid, even if he knew they wouldn’t be popular.  Something that couldn’t have been easy when done in a group full of sharp witted rationalists with egos. 

            Most of the time, Odagiri didn’t really play the role of an initiator.  D-Agency didn’t really group think.  Most of the time, they didn’t speak much at all.  None of them were fans of stating the obvious, and so, quite often, things that would have been outlined for another group were left unsaid for the spies, with the understanding that they should know these things already, and that time could be saved by not going over things they all already knew, or at least should know.  But when it did become necessary to discuss items of business, Odagiri didn’t shy away from presenting unpopular or even unsupported viewpoints.  Some of the others found that annoying, Amari knew, but Amari found that it actually made him respect Odagiri more.  It wasn’t easy throwing ideas out there that you knew would get put through the ringer by people like Hatano and Miyoshi.  Amari even thought that Yuuki secretly respected this side of Odagiri too.  He never point blank shot down Odagiri’s eccentric opinions, and only rarely bothered dressing those opinions down.  Probably in large part because the other spies did the task for him, but if he’d wanted to nip these odd ideas in the bud, he was very capable of doing so.

            Whether or not this was a role that Odagiri had played before becoming a spy was hard to say, but if Amari had to put money down on it, he’d go with no.  His reasoning?  Well, it was no secret that Odagiri had once been in the military.  Yeah, it was supposed to be a secret, but really?  They were trained to root out secrets, and observe human behavior for any little tell, so yes, every single one of them knew.  Odagiri was a former military man.  And the military didn’t like anyone giving opinions.

            If Amari had to guess what role Odagiri had occupied there . . . he’d go with a caregiver role of some sort.  Perhaps the role of a protector.  He had no evidence to support this.  Just a hunch.  A feeling, rather.  Much like the ones that caused Odagiri to voice his outlying opinions.  Often they fell flat.  But every now and then, one turned out to be quite insightful.

 

 

* * *

The Harmonizer

 

            Tazaki was the sort of person who, in another group, could have been a leader, could have been a caregiver, or even could have been an initiator.  Amari was sure that in his old life, he’d acted as all of those, at some time or another.  But here, in D-Agency, where those roles had already been filled by men who worked better in those roles for this particular group, he adopted another important role.  That of a harmonizer.

            Despite not having an outstanding role, the group worked better with Tazaki in it.  He got along with everyone, was liked by everyone.  When egos clashed, as they couldn’t help but doing from time to time, in a group like this, Tazaki was good at deflecting and smoothing things over, getting them back on task, and keeping everything moving smoothly. 

            Amari admired his ability to do that.  He even caught Yuuki giving Tazaki appreciative glances now and then, and knew that he wasn’t the only one to have recognized Tazaki’s worth.  And he was glad.  Because he had the feeling Tazaki didn’t really realize his own worth.

            Details of Tazaki’s past had slipped out too.  (Details of all their pasts had slipped out, honestly, but Tazaki’s were a little more unusual than most, and thus more noteworthy.)  Signs of an education in Britain, hints that he’d been cast out of his family for a difference in opinions, and a penchant toward fencing were easy enough to uncover.  Tazaki had likely come into training thinking he had an edge over men educated in Japan’s ridiculous Imperial education system, and that his fencing expertise would prove useful in training.  He’d been wrong on both accounts.  Amari was of the opinion that it took a stronger mind to survive indoctrination without being brainwashed than it did to look down on it from the outside, and he cited himself and the other Japanese educated spies as evidence.  And fencing . . . well, Tazaki had an advantage against most other fencers.  He was a lefty.  (Or ambidextrous.  Amari still wasn’t sure yet.)  But Yuuki, being Yuuki, went and leaked that advantage to all the other spies, and gave them some tips for countering it.  And then you had people like Hatano, who had no respect for the rules of fencing anyway, who would do things like slash at your legs, kick you anywhere he felt like it, or flip right over your head to jab you in the back . . .  Even if every other move he made would have disqualified him in a contest, you still couldn’t walk away feeling like you’d won against him.  What it really came down to was that fencing, as Tazaki had learned it, was a sport.  Sports had rules.  Real fights didn’t.  So the art that he’d prided himself at being so good in could only be taken so seriously by the men of D-Agency. 

            But rather than get frustrated, like many trainees who’d been cut had, Tazaki had adapted.  His cool head earned him respect among the other spies, and he was likable enough that not even the very aggravating Hatano had made fun of him too much.  Hatano had actually taken the time to tutor him in the fine art of fighting dirty.  All in all, things had probably actually turned out better for Tazaki this way, than if his skills had served him as well as he’d been expecting them to.  Maybe he’d have settled into a different role, if they had.  But Amari thought that Tazaki fit in best right where he was.

  


 

* * *

 

The Challenger

 

            Sometimes Hatano seemed to be a borderline aggressor.  And an aggressor was usually considered a negative role.  His tolerance for anything that wasted time or wasn’t supported by logic was very low.  He was usually the first to shoot down Odagiri’s outlying ideas.  Often when Sakuma said something stupid, Hatano didn’t even bother responding.  He just stared at the liaison with a look that said he’d had enough of Sakuma’s BS.  He annoyed the others at times.  No one likes to have their ideas challenged.  But the role of a challenger was necessary in any high functioning group.  They cut down on the amount of time wasted and they made their peers prepare arguments to defend their positions before voicing them, ensuring that their argument was defendable and not just a whim. 

            Outside of D-Agency, when forced into groups, Hatano had probably been a full out aggressor.  He was only actually toned down to a challenger here because of who his peers were.  People he actually liked and respected.  And who had the mental fortitude to stand up to his challenges.  Normal people would have crumpled like paper dolls when he shot down their arguments.  But . . . even though he knew this, Amari couldn’t help but wonder if that had actually been the case.  Hatano’s personality seemed . . . inconsistent with what Amari knew of his life before D-Agency.  His mastery of martial arts alone seemed at odds with his very un-Zen-like personality.  Then there were other things Amari had speculated on and deduced about his upbringing . . .  It made him wonder if the personality Hatano was using there at D-Agency was just as much a lie as the name Hatano?  Essentially, their code names, and their identities in D-Agency were roles that they were playing, but Amari hadn’t thought any of them had actually adopted brand new personalities to play those roles.  For most of them, he felt like it was the first time they had ever been able to freely be themselves.  But then, maybe that was true for Hatano too.  That hotheaded personality of his could have been repressed most of his life, and all the roles he might have played before joining D-Agency might have required more acting than the roles he was playing now. 

 

 

* * *

The Observer

 

            Jitsui was quiet without being a wallflower, critical without being too cutting, and very knowledgeable from all the reading he did.  And not just reading books, but people, rooms, and their group as a whole.  He fell into the role of an observer naturally, and did it very well.

            Gleaning information from the way they all looked, and knowing what they were going to say before they said it just came naturally to him.  It made Jitsui extremely dangerous at the poker table, where he was able to masterfully conclude who was signaling for who, and how to interpret enemy signals.  His were skills that he could use to benefit the group as a whole, but that would always benefit him more than the group itself, and kind of gave Amari the sense that Jitsui had been more of a loaner prior to joining D-Agency. 

            His behavior since training began supported that.  He’d stayed isolated from most of the other trainees, except for Hatano, for most of their training.  Though that could have been because most of the other trainees didn’t want to be around him on account of his baby face and obvious youth, erroneously thinking those were working against him.  Amari himself had steered clear of him for that reason, at the beginning.  He had got the feeling Jitsui knew it too, but thankfully Jitsui wasn’t holding any grudges over it. (Very thankfully.  Amari had seen what happened to people Jitsui had grudges against.)  Sometimes, when they included Jitsui in something, or spoke to him even though he’d been staying at the fringes of the group, silently, Jitsui got a surprised little look on his face, like he was startled at being invited or brought into the conversation.  Like this was something different.  Something unexpected.

            So, outside of D-Agency, Amari concluded that Jitsui had played the role of the observer as well.  Just, more likely an observer who used his information much more to his own benefit than his group’s benefit, because no group had ever made him a part of it like they at D-Agency had made him part of theirs. 

 

 

* * *

The Enigma

 

            Which left Amari himself.  And honestly, he couldn’t objectively classify his role in the group.  People tended to either be their own worst critics, or overly forgiving of their own faults, which meant that their own opinions of themselves were never really accurate, and Amari was well aware of that. 

            He liked to think of himself as sort of a big brother figure to the other spies.  But he didn’t know if they actually saw him that way.  In all honesty, they were all rather self-sufficient men.  Even their two youngest.  Especially their two youngest.  He thought that most of them didn’t think they needed a big brother, or else didn’t want one . . . but he couldn’t help thinking of them as his little brothers.  And he was of the opinion that most of them could have benefitted from a big brother like him, if they’d had one growing up.  He might not be the smartest or most cunning of them, or the best fighter, but he was confident enough in his own abilities that he wasn’t threatened by that.  And he actually had a good amount of affection for them all.  Even vicious little Jitsui.  And snooty, prickly Miyoshi. 

            So, the role of a caregiver probably fit him pretty well.  Not the same way it fit Fukumoto.  He didn’t have mothering tendencies.  But he still liked to think that he was one of the ones who was there for the others.  They did turn to him now and then when they needed help, and the like.  Just the other day, Jitsui had asked him to reach a book off of the high shelf for him when they were both in the library, instead of going all the way to the table and dragging a chair back to the shelf, like he once would have.  Amari thought that meant something.  He wanted it to mean something.  But he knew that it was a mistake to try to judge his own character, because it was bound to be inaccurate.

            Though he would insist on this about himself: he liked taking care of others.  And someday he would be the one that someone he was looking out for would turn to when they were really in trouble, and really needed help, as well as for little things like reaching high places.  And until that day came, Amari planned to do his best to be the kind of person who deserved that kind of trust.  “Amari” might be a role, yes.  But it was the first role he’d ever played that let him be himself. 

 

* * *

Notes: This fic was written as a thank you to [Tivanny ](http://tivanny2292.tumblr.com/)who requested something about Amari, like a day in the life of Amari not long after training was over, or his first impressions of the other spies.  I hope this lived up to your expectations, Tivanny.  And thank you so much for all the beautiful fan art you’ve drawn for me.  Your pics give me lots of motivation to write, and I appreciate them so much! :D


End file.
